In all a handsome, foppish gentleman, with just enough of daredevilry and charm in his manner to soften the slightly repellent insolence that characterized him. His Grace of Buckingham.
Standing by the window was Lord Ashley-Cooper. His lordship laid no claim to either personal beauty or charm. Even at that time his face was lined and pinched, and his manner lacked the courtier’s polish. His dress was plain, judged by the standards of the day, and something careless in appearance. He neither toyed with comfits, nor hummed to pass the time, as did His Grace of Buckingham, but signs of impatience he showed in the way his foot tapped the ground, and in the twitching of his thin lips.
Villiers studied him amusedly.
Then Roxhythe came into the room.
Both men turned, and Buckingham dragged himself from his chair, yawning behind his scented handkerchief.
Ashley bowed stiffly. It struck Roxhythe that he was not at ease. He wondered what the man really knew of the King’s designs: whether he was playing into the King’s hands deliberately. Roxhythe was slightly acquainted with him, but he saw that Ashley’s bow was not cordial. He returned it, making great play with his plumed hat. Then he bowed to His Grace.
And there they stood, Buckingham obviously amused; Roxhythe quite impassive, sustaining his bow; and Ashley very uncomfortable. Yet it was he who spoke the first word.
“My Lord Roxhythe, we are greatly honoured. Pray will you not be seated?” His voice was harsh but not unsympathetic.
Roxhythe ended his bow with a flourish. He deposited his hat on a chair, laid his gloves on the brim, and sat down at the table, making a gesture with his hand to two other chairs. In that moment he became master of the situation.
Buckingham stretched himself in his original place and ate another comfit. Roxhythe caught the exasperated glance that Ashley flung at him and chuckled inwardly. Charles had chosen an ill-matched couple for the business.
“Gentlemen, I await your convenience,” he said.
Buckingham passed his comfit-box to Ashley, who sat nearest him.
“May I not tempt you, my lord? I assure—”
“I thank your Grace, no!” said Ashley, curtly.
“Then my Lord Roxhythe?”
Roxhythe accepted a violet-tinted sweetmeat, and handed the box back to his Grace.
Villiers watched him anxiously.
“A delicate flavour, you’ll agree, my lord? I have scoured London and not found another maker to rival this one.”
Roxhythe lifted his hand.
“I seem to catch the name in the flavour, sir … Champlin—no. … Ah! Tonier!”
“You’re right,” nodded Buckingham. “Tonier. I set great store by my comfits.”
Ashley interrupted at this, seeing that Roxhythe seemed disposed to continue the subject.
“Gentlemen, we have met to discuss more important matters than your sweetmeats!” he said quickly.
Haughtily Buckingham raised his eyebrows. Then he let them fall again, and yawned.
“My Lord Roxhythe will forgive the abruptness,” he drawled. “I shall hope to continue our little conversation another time, sir.”
“Your Grace still gives me something to live for,” replied Roxhythe sweetly.
Ashley brought his clenched fist down on the table.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen!” he cried. “I must beseech your attention!” Instantly Roxhythe turned to him.
“Your pardon, my lord! I stand rebuked. Well, I have had speech with His Majesty.” He sat back, waiting for Ashley to speak.
“Oh, have you so?” asked Buckingham sleepily. “How doth His Majesty? I have not seen him in these two days.”
“Very well, sir—considering. …”
Ashley flashed angrily.
“Well, sirs! And is this the time or the place to bandy questions concerning His Majesty’s health? We are here on business of great importance—”
Buckingham was moved to sit up.
“My lord! His Majesty’s health—”
“Is of great moment, your Grace, as I am perfectly well aware! But we have no time to waste now! We must come to our business at once! Already we waste time with all this talk of sweetmeats and—”
“Gentlemen, I beg you not to quarrel here, in His Majesty’s apartments,” interposed Roxhythe very coldly. “My lord, if you will give me your attention for one moment!”
Before Ashley, indignant at the implied reproof, had time to do more than open his mouth, Roxhythe had begun to speak, concisely, but with the air of one bored beyond measure.
“His Majesty did me the honour of requesting my presence this morning, when he did propound to me a scheme which he hath in mind. This I need not speak of to you, gentlemen, for I know that you are party to the intrigue.” Here he bowed. “His Majesty further honoured me by commanding my services in the matter, desiring me to be his messenger to his nephew, the Prince of Orange. This I did undertake, and His Majesty at once commanded me to seek you out for the further propounding of the matter. Allow me to say also, gentlemen, that I am entirely at your disposal.”
“Very prettily said,” commented his Grace, opening one eye. “I swear I could not reel it off so pat.”
“I gather, my lord, that His Majesty apprised you of our intentions?”
“His Majesty told me that Prince William was to be cozened to our side, and the Provinces to pay yearly tribute to England.”
“That is so.”
Roxhythe felt Buckingham’s eyes upon him. He knew then that Charles had made no secret of his intentions to the Duke. As yet he could not judge of Ashley’s knowledge, but he thought it unlikely that this man should be privy to the King’s aims.
“I see you know it all,” continued Ashley. “It but remains to arrange that you depart in such a way that the French Ambassador’s spies shall not suspect you; and to read you your instruction.”
Roxhythe bowed.
“His Majesty desires you to travel by sea to Flushing, where it is believed your lordship has friends.”
Again Roxhythe bowed.
“You are to journey to the Hague, but in such a way as to excite no suspicion. So the first day you will ride no further than Bergen-op-Zoom; the second to Gertruydenberg; the third to Rotterdam, and so to the Hague itself. We leave to your discretion the time you
